


what he needs

by goldenthunderstorms



Series: the ficpocalypse (challenge fics) [2]
Category: The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue Series - Mackenzi Lee
Genre: 13 ish years after Monty would've left at 18, Adrian has so much anxiety, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Can You Tell I Hardly Do Legal Research?, Domestic Fluff, Family Bonding, Fluff, Harm to Children, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, I’m Going To Get Vibe Checked by Canon, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Character Death, Monty has burn scars yay, Past Child Abuse, Scipio's A+ Parenting, and they're married!!, because you will not take married mercy away from me!!, mentions of Queen, so he and Percy are 31, they have a dog too, what a mood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:07:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23812798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenthunderstorms/pseuds/goldenthunderstorms
Summary: Curled up on one of those couches is a teenage boy wearing a big sweatshirt. It takes a minute for me to register that he’s our brother. He’s thin and tall. His hair is dark, so dark that it’s almost black. I wonder where he got that, too.“Adrian?” Johanna says. When he sits up, I see the resemblance. Adrian is all Montague in the face: long, thin nose, high cheekbones, the crease between his eyebrows that Percy always teases me about. But our resemblance goes deeper than that. When I look at him, I know without a shadow of a doubt that Father treated Adrian the way that he treated me. Adrian holds himself by the ribs, shoulders pulled up. His face is guarded and his eyes are hollow, scared. I can’t see any bruises on him but I have a suspicion from the way he sits up slow, like it hurts. His face is red and puffy like he’s been doing a lot of crying.13 years after leaving home, Monty finds out that his parents have suddenly died. Not only that, but they left his little brother behind, who now needs somewhere to go. All that leaves is Monty, who is a little panicked about the thought of becoming his estranged teenage brother's guardian.
Relationships: Felicity Montague & Henry "Monty" Montague, Henry "Monty" Montague & Baby Montague | The Goblin, Henry "Monty" Montague & Scipio, Henry "Monty" Montague/Percy Newton
Series: the ficpocalypse (challenge fics) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1707529
Comments: 14
Kudos: 93
Collections: TGGTVAV AU Challenge Fics





	what he needs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [em_gray](https://archiveofourown.org/users/em_gray/gifts), [pinstripedJackalope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinstripedJackalope/gifts).
  * Inspired by [One Day I'll Sing to You My Dear](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23656993) by [pinstripedJackalope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinstripedJackalope/pseuds/pinstripedJackalope). 



> hello!! so I recently joined em_gray and pinstripedJackalope's au challenge! basically we go in a sort of cycle writing a fic using an element from a fic that came before us! in pinstripedJackalope's fic "One Day I'll Sing to You My Dear" Adrian is with Monty and they left Henry Sr. together with Felicity and since I love the idea of Adrian and Monty having a relationship, I did this! I hope you enjoy!

Sunday mornings are good. Percy doesn’t have to teach lessons on Sunday mornings. I don’t have to go into work. It’s a morning of the week that we can engage in all the domestic bliss our young gay selves yearned for. I’m making coffee and Percy is cooking omelets. Juno, our golden retriever, is begging at his feet. He tosses her a piece of ham when he thinks I’m not looking.

I set our coffees on the table and come up behind Percy, wrapping my arms around his torso and setting my chin on his shoulder. “You spoil her,” I say.

“I spoil both of you,” Percy replies, turning to kiss me. We exchange leisurely kisses for a few minutes before Percy returns his attention to the stove.

I’m about to start setting the table when the doorbell rings. “I’ll get it,” I say. Juno follows me to the front door. I look out of the peephole and see a woman who can’t be much older than my younger sister Felicity. She has brown hair done in a fancy updo and is wearing a pale pink pantsuit. She looks nervous.

I open the door. Juno sets herself right at the edge of the door. She’s trained not to go outside but she wants anyone at the door to get a good look at her and maybe a head scratch or two.

The woman’s face lights up at the sight of Juno. “Hello there, baby,” she says in the bubbly voice reserved for talking to animals. Then she seems to remember her composure, clears her throat, and looks at me. Her eyes widen for a moment, clearly taking in the scars on my face for the first time. “Um, Henry Montague?”

“Montague-Newton,” I correct her. “How can I help you?”

“Oh, my, sorry. I should have introduced myself.” She holds out a hand. “My name is Johanna Hoffman. I’m a county social worker.” Tentatively, I shake her hand. Then, she reaches into a pocket and holds out a badge identifying her as a social worker. “May I come inside? I have important matters to discuss but it might be better to sit down and have a talk instead of out here.”

“Sure,” I say, stepping back to let her in.

Juno is delighted and follows Johanna. Johanna seems equally delighted by this and indulges Juno with scritches. I don’t stop her. We return to the kitchen and Percy stares at us.

“Monty?” he asks. “Who’s this?”

Johanna straightens. “Oh, hello,” she says. “My name is Johanna Hoffman. I’m a county social worker. I came to speak with Henry,” she explains.

“Miss Hoffman, this is my husband, Percy,” I say. “Is it alright if he sits with us?”

Johanna smiles. “Of course.”

We all settle at the table, Percy and I with our breakfast. Percy apologizes to Johanna for not having anything for her but she insists that it’s alright. We begin eating as Johanna starts talking. “Henry, I’m here because I have some rather large news. When is the last time that you spoke to your parents?”

I frown. “My parents? Not since I left when I was eighteen so . . . thirteen years. Why? Did something happen?”

Johanna grimaces. “Yes, your parents, Henry, have passed away.”

I blink.  _ Oh.  _ They’re dead. It doesn’t hurt, exactly. I never expected to mourn for my parents, if I ever knew about their deaths. But there is still a strange sense of finality to it, knowing they’re gone for good.

_ Good riddance, Father _ .

Percy reaches over and takes my hand, squeezing.

“How?” I ask.

“A car accident.”

“I see,” I say. “But there’s more, isn’t there?”

“Yes.” Johanna inclines her head. “You may not remember but you had a younger brother, Adrian Montague.”

The Goblin. I had forgotten about him. He was born barely a year before I left. I nod.

“Adrian is not dead,” she says. She pauses a moment as if to let that sink in but I still can’t figure out what that has to do with me. I already knew the Goblin was getting all of my parents’ earthly possessions. “As his closest living relative, he falls into your care.”

Percy and I are both physically taken aback. “What?” I ask.

“Without his parents, Adrian needs a new guardian. He’s only fourteen. You are his closest living relative most fit to take on a child. Your sister is almost out of the question. But you are older, stably employed, and married.”

I would hardly call working in retail  _ stably employed  _ but I don’t protest. Adrian falls into  _ our care _ . Percy and I have briefly discussed kids. If we wanted kids, it wouldn’t be a bad time for them. But I told Percy that, given my childhood, I couldn’t see myself as a good father and he respected that. And this is hardly the ideal way to obtain kids of any kind. Adrian wouldn’t even really be our child in any way. He’s my little brother.

That’s a strange thought.

“There’s also the matter of your parents’ possessions,” Johanna says, “but I feel that we can come back to that. Right now, I’d like to take you to meet Adrian. He’s waiting back at the office. It’s been a rough few days for him but we can’t exactly put off finding him somewhere to live.”

I nod, though I’m barely keeping up. “What would happen to Adrian if we didn’t take him in?” I ask. 

“We would have to find another relative for him to stay with or . . . foster care.”

I nod.

Percy turns to me. “Monty,” he whispers, “you’re not really going to turn him away, are you?”

“No, I just . . .” This is all a lot to take in over Sunday morning breakfast. My parents are  _ dead _ . It’s a comforting thought that I outlived my father, but any comfort in that is offset by the fact that I now have an orphaned brother to take care of. I wonder what he’s like. I wonder if our father messed him up as badly as he did me. But I don’t say any of this, just shake my head and take another bite of my omelet.

“So,” Johanna says, “after breakfast, I was thinking we should all drive to the office. If you’d like, I can lead the way in my car and you two can follow me.”

“We can do that,” Percy says.

“Has anyone contacted Felicity?” I ask.

Johanna shakes her head. “Not yet, no.”

“Can I?”

Johanna nods.

I get up and start to call my sister, stepping into the hallway. I hear Percy say something in the kitchen and start clearing the table.

The phone rings a few times before Felicity answers. “You better have a good fucking reason for waking me up,” she says.

“You’re still asleep? It’s past eleven.”

“Nightshift, Monty,” she retorts. Felicity is doing her residency training at a hospital to be a doctor. While it’s great that she’s pursuing her childhood dream and all of that, her sleep schedule has been irreparably fucked. “What do you want?”

“Well, I have some fun news,” I say, voice dripping in sarcasm.

I hear rustling. I guess Felicity is sitting up. “What?”

“So a nice social worker showed up at a doorstep today. And you’ll never guess what she told me.”

“Just spit it out, Monty.”

“Our parents are dead.”

A sharp intake of breath. Silence. “Dead,” Felicity echoes. “How?”

“Car accident,” I say. “I didn’t really ask for specifics. But that’s not all.”

“How can that not be all?”

“Remember our baby brother? Adrian?”

After a moment Felicity says yes.

“Well, he’s an orphan now and because he’s only fourteen, someone has to take him.”

Another beat of silence. “You?”

“Bingo.”

“Well, that’s . . .” she trails off. Felicity isn’t typically one for being speechless.

“Percy and I are about to go meet him if you want to come. You don’t have to right now but I figured—”

“I’ll be there,” Felicity says. There’s more rustling. “Where are you going?”

“Social worker’s office. I’ll get an address for you.”

“Okay, I’ll see you there.” She hangs up.

There’s a hand on my waist and then Percy is pulling me to his chest, chin on my head. “What did Felicity say?” he asks.

“She seemed . . . shocked. But you know how she is.”

“She’s coming to see Adrian?”

I nod. “I wonder if he’ll remember her. He might’ve been three or four when she left our parents.”

Percy kisses the top of my head. “How are you feeling about this?”

“It’s . . . a lot.”

“I’m sure.”

“I don’t really feel sad about it,” I admit. “I really never expected to see them again anyway. It’s just hard to digest.”

“Yeah,” Percy says softly. “What about Adrian?”

“That’s also a lot to take in. I don’t know what we’re going to do.”

“We’ll figure things out. We always do.”

He’s right, we do. But this feels like a much more daunting task than anything we’ve done before. “Where’s Johanna?” I ask.

“She’s waiting outside. We’re supposed to be getting ready to go meet Adrian.”

“Okay,” I say, but don’t make any move to go upstairs. I turn in Percy’s arms to press my face into his chest. He holds me for a few minutes and, like always, Percy’s touch grounds me.

“We really should start getting dressed,” Percy says, so we do. We go to our room upstairs and get ready. Juno, who seems to have taken a liking to Johanna, paces in the hallway. She whines when we go outside and don’t let her follow. I find myself hoping Adrian likes dogs.

“Are we ready?” Johanna asks when we step out onto the porch.

“Yes,” I say. “Miss Hoffman, could I get the address of where we’re going? I called my sister and she wants to come too.”

Johanna gives me the address and I send it to Felicity. We get into our cars and start following Johanna’s. Percy is driving because my driving is what he calls a wreck waiting to happen. The ride is silent for the first ten minutes.

“What’re you thinking?” Percy asks softly, not looking away from the road.

“I’m thinking . . . I’m a little nervous.”

Percy nods. “About meeting Adrian?”

“About all of it but yes, let’s focus on the most present fear.”

Percy stops at a red light and looks at me. “What’s there to be nervous about?”

“What if he doesn’t like us?”

“He doesn’t  _ know  _ us, love.”

“Exactly,” I say but don’t elaborate. Adrian and I are strangers. I don’t even know how to act around him. Should I act like a brother? Would that be weird? I wasn’t a very good older brother to Felicity growing up and I don’t think I can bully Adrian into friendship. I barely know how to act around normal kids, let alone estranged younger brother kids. Percy is a violin teacher. He’s wonderful with kids. “I already know that he’ll adore you but what if . . .” I don’t know how to finish that. There are so many awful ways this could go.

Percy focuses on the road again but lets go of the steering wheel with one hand to take mine. He brings the back of my hand to his lips. “Monty, he’s not going to hate you.”

I don’t say anything to that, just squeeze his hand. We spend the rest of the ride in silence, Percy pressing kisses to my hand every now and then.

When we reach the offices, I see Felicity sitting in her car. She must spot our car too because she gets out when we do. I walk over to her.

We stand in silence for a moment.

“They’re really gone,” Felicity says.

“Yeah,” I say. “Good riddance, huh?”

Felicity returns my half-smile but neither of us really feels it. 

We return to Johanna and Percy. Johanna gives us both a sympathetic smile. “So, I’m going to give you two some time to get reacquainted with Adrian. Then, we’ll all sit down and have a talk about further steps, alright? Adrian is obviously a little unsettled. This is a lot for him so let’s try to be gentle.”

Felicity and I both nod. Gentleness is not a prevalent Montague trait but we understand. Percy takes my hand again as Johanna leads us into the building. We pass cubicles of tired-looking men and women on phones and typing on computers. Johanna leads us into what looks like a small meeting room but has couches instead of tables and chairs. Curled up on one of those couches is a teenage boy wearing a big sweatshirt. It takes a minute for me to register that he’s our brother. He’s thin and tall. It’s obvious, even with him sitting, that he’s taller than I was at fourteen and almost as tall as me now. He must have gotten the height from our mother’s side that skipped over Felicity and I. His hair is dark, so dark that it’s almost black. I wonder where he got that, too. My father had light brown hair that he passed to me. Mother was blonde. Felicity has auburn hair that verges on red.

“Adrian?” Johanna says. When he sits up, I see the resemblance. Adrian is all Montague in the face: long, thin nose, high cheekbones, the crease between his eyebrows that Percy always teases me about. But our resemblance goes deeper than that. When I look at him, I know without a shadow of a doubt that Father treated Adrian the way that he treated me. Adrian holds himself by the ribs, shoulders pulled up. His face is guarded and his eyes are hollow, scared. I can’t see any bruises on him but I have a suspicion from the way he sits up slow, like it hurts. His face is red and puffy like he’s been doing a lot of crying.

“This is your brother Henry and your sister Felicity. I’m going to give you three some time to catch up and then we’re going to talk about what comes next, alright?”

Adrian just nods.

Johanna gives us both a small smile before stepping out of the room.

Percy, Felicity, and I settle onto the couch across from Adrian. Me, Felicity, and Adrian all take each other in for a moment. When I can’t take the silence anymore, I say, “Hi.”

“Hi,” Adrian says, eyeing me warily. He studies my scars.

“Do you remember us?” Felicity asks.

“I kind of remember you,” he says to her. He looks at me. “I don’t remember you at all.”

This makes me smile a little. “Let me guess, the old man never talked about me?”

Adrian shakes his head. Then, he looks at Percy. “Who are you?”

“This is my husband, Percy,” I say. If the fact that I have a husband bothers Adrian, he doesn’t show it. Maybe my father wasn’t able to indoctrinate him either. Maybe he’s queer too. But that’s not something I can just ask, especially not right now.

“How old are you?” Adrian asks.

“I’m twenty-eight,” Felicity says

.“I’m thirty-one,” I say.

An awkward silence descends. Adrian pulls his knees up to his chest. His face twists. He’s definitely sore.

Percy, the angel, cuts through the silence. “Why don’t you three get to know each other a little?” He seems like he’s about to call on Adrian but Adrian looks like he would rather pull out his own teeth, so he turns to Felicity. “Feli?”

“Uh, okay,” Felicity says. “I’m doing my residency to become a doctor right now. I live with my best friend Sim. I’m really into books, biology, and politics.” She turns to me. “Monty?”

“I’m not a genius like Felicity so I work at a clothing store. Obviously, I live with Percy and our dog Juno—”

“You have a dog?” Adrian asks. When I nod, I see the first smile he’s probably given all day. “What kind?”

“A golden retriever,” I say. “She loves people. You’ll adore her.”

“Father didn’t let me have a dog but I’ve always wanted one.”

“No, he didn’t let us either,” I sigh.

We spend maybe thirty more minutes making small talk. I find out a few things about Adrian: he loves music and can play the violin, guitar, and piano; he’s a freshman in high school; he misses our mother. He didn’t tell us that one, but the sadness on his face when we mentioned her says it all. Maybe she got her act together for him.

Johanna reappears and smiles when we all seem to be making pleasant conversation. “Alright, it’s time for us to talk about next steps. Adrian, the reason it was so important for you to meet your brother is that I’ve asked Henry and his husband to become your guardians.”

To Adrian’s credit, he doesn’t look devastated. “Okay,” he says. He studies Percy and I again. I don’t know what he’s looking for.

“If you have your things, we’d like to send you home with them today.”

“Today?” Adrian and I say at the same time.

Johanna nods. “I’m sure there will be an opportunity to get the rest of your things from your parents’ house, but we want to help you get settled as soon as possible.” She then turns to Percy and I. “If that’s alright with your brother and his husband.” The look she gives us is pleading.

“Of course,” I say.

Thirty minutes later, after we discuss a few more things with Johanna, Percy and I are loading Adrian’s suitcases into the trunk of our car. Felicity is driving away after having sworn to Percy she would visit soon. As soon as we have the trunk closed, Percy heads for the driver’s seat.

“Why can’t I ever drive, Perce?” I ask, knowing full well why.

“Monty, if I’m around, you’re forbidden from driving,” Percy retorts, getting in.

“How come Felicity and Percy call you Monty? Isn’t your name Henry?” Adrian asks.

“It is,” I say. “But when I was younger it was easier to call me Monty instead of Henry Junior. Besides, no one called me Henry except for Father.”

Adrian nods at that like he picks up on the deeper meaning behind that. Without saying anything else, we both get into the car.

Usually, Percy and I have music playing softly in the car that we don’t always fully notice. But Adrian seems like the antsy type so I turn up the volume and turn to him. “Favorite band, go.”

Adrian looks caught for a second and blurts,  _ “Queen.” _

Percy and I both nod appreciatively.

“Good choice,” I say, and shuffle  _ Queen _ on Spotify.

The ride home is surprisingly calm, all of us in our own worlds and swaying to Freddie Mercury. Percy holds my hand, squeezing it every now and then.

When we get to our house, Percy and I get Adrian’s bags and lead him inside. Juno sees Adrian and bolts towards him. Adrian laughs and sits on the ground, letting Juno lick him and shed all over his clothes. Percy and I pull his suitcases upstairs and into the guest room. A few minutes later, Adrian comes up the stairs with Juno on his heels and appears in the doorway.

“This’ll be your room. The door right next to this one is the bathroom. The door next to that is our room.” I say. “We can get anything you want from Father’s house this week.”

Adrian looks around the room and nods. Juno is leaning against his side and he pets her.

“How about we give you some time to get settled? Monty and I can start on dinner,” Percy says. He takes my hand and we go back downstairs. Juno stays up with Adrian.

Once we’re downstairs, Percy starts pulling down supplies to make dinner. “What are we making?” I ask.

“I’m making chicken alfredo,” Percy says. “You’re going to sit there and look pretty.”

“That I can do.” I kiss his cheek and perch myself on the kitchen island. “What do you think of Adrian?”

“I think he’s precious. He reminds me of you.”

“Gee, I wonder why,” I deadpan.

Percy fills a pot with water. “Do you think that your father . . . ?”

I know what he’s asking. “Definitely,” I say.

“Did he tell you?”

“No, but I can tell. It takes one to know one. He’s moving like his sides hurt.”

Percy sets the pot on the stove to start boiling. Then he turns to me, giving me a look that I can’t decipher.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask.

Percy abandons the stove. He stands in front of the island, between my legs, winding his arms around my neck. He kisses me, long and sweet.

“Not that I’m complaining,” I say when we part, “but really, what’s this for?”

Percy leans his forehead against mine. He takes my face in his hands and strokes my cheeks with his thumbs. He’s got those big brown eyes locked on mine and he’s looking at me with so much love that it used to scare me. It doesn’t scare me anymore. I’m sure that I look at him with just as much. “I just want to make sure you know how proud of you I am, all the time. And how glad I am that you got out of that situation when you did. And I’m  _ so  _ proud of how you recovered from it.” He kisses me again. “I love you.”

That makes me smile and my chest ache. I want to say something equally sweet and sappy in return but if I do, I might start crying. Feelings have never been my strong suit but Percy knows this, so instead, I say, “Have I ever told you how sexy you are when you’re being all sappy and sentimental?”

Percy chuckles. “A few times.”

I wrap my legs around his waist and pull him as close as I can get him. “Because you are  _ so  _ sexy when you’re being all sappy and sentimental.” I kiss him once. “And I love you too.” Then, I wind my arms around his neck and pull him back in to kiss him senseless. I don’t get very far with that before the stove beeps though.

“Crap,” Percy says, disentangling himself from me. “I really shouldn’t let you in here while I’m cooking. You’re a more dangerous distraction than you are a cook.”

“But I’m your favorite distraction.”

Once dinner's nearly ready, Percy sends me upstairs to get Adrian.

I knock on the guest room door. “Adrian?” I don’t get an answer. “If you’re hungry, dinner’s ready.” Still no answer. “Adrian, can I come in?” I don’t get an answer but I also don’t get a no, so I poke my head in. He might be asleep. I know he let Juno out earlier.

But when I poke my head in, at first I don’t see Adrian. Only when I step inside do I see him, sitting on the ground near the dresser. His head is hidden in his knees. I think he’s crying. “Adrian?” I ask again. I go to crouch in front of him, giving him a foot of space between us. Closer, I can hear his short breaths, see the shaking of his shoulders. “Adrian, can you hear me?”

Adrian looks up. He is crying or, more accurately,  _ sobbing _ . That’s when it dawns on me.

“Adrian, do you know what’s happening right now?” I ask calmly. Adrian nods. “Are you having a panic attack?” He nods again.  _ Okay _ , I think.  _ What do I remember about panic attacks? _

I haven’t had a panic attack in a long time. I used to get them when I lived with my father and sometimes even afterward. They usually didn’t manifest like Adrian’s do though. Mine were more like dissociation. I really shouldn’t be the one helping Adrian with this but I don’t like the idea of leaving him alone. I try to remember what my therapist in college told me to do during a panic attack.

“Okay, first things first, I need you to breathe, Adrian,” I say. “Deep, slow breaths. Don’t inhale through your mouth.” He does as I say, interrupted every now and then by hiccups from crying. Once his breathing is a little less erratic, I start talking to him again. “Alright, now I want you to find five things you can see. If you can tell me what they are, great. If not, at least think about it.” Adrian’s eyes dart around the room. “Do you have five things you can see?” Adrian wipes at his eyes and nods. “Good. Keep breathing. Now find four things you can touch.” Adrian reaches out and puts a hand on the dresser. He nods again. “Three things you can hear.” Conveniently, the stove beeps downstairs. Adrian nods. “Two things you can smell.” After a few beats, Adrian nods again. He’s staring at me like I’m his lifeline and I hope to whatever higher power that I’m doing the right thing. “One thing you can taste.” Adrian frowns a little, then nods again. “Did that help any?” I ask.

Adrian seems to pause like he’s evaluating his own mental state. Then he nods again. “Yeah,” he says softly. He wipes at his eyes again. I notice that his breathing has slowed down.

“Good,” I say. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” Adrian mutters.

“Okay.” I pull my own knees up to my chest. “Is there anything else I can do to help?”

“Just . . . don’t leave me?” he asks, then seems to grimace at how he sounds

“Okay,” I say again. We sit in silence for a few minutes.

“Hey, Monty? Can I ask you something?”

“Go for it.”

“What happened to your face?”

I laugh because of how the question sounds. Adrian goes a little pink at the ears. “This?” I ask, running a finger over the burn scars on the right side of my face and my ear.

“Yeah.”

“Sort of a parting gift from Father,” I say.

Adrian’s eyes widen. “He did that to you?”

“Well, he didn’t set me on fire. But he got in a good punch and knocked me into the fireplace that was still hot from the fire.”

“Is that why you ran away?” Adrian asks.

“It was definitely part of it. But I was planning to get out of that house for a long time.”

Adrian nods. “Me too.”

“He was rough on you too, wasn’t he?”

“I think rough is the nice way to put it.”

This makes me laugh too. “Fair.” I let go of my knees. “Can I put it in the not-nice way?” Adrian nods. “Our dad is an abusive piece of shit,” I say. Adrian lets out a surprised laugh. I grin. “And I’m not sorry to say that I hope he’s burning in hell.” Adrian is still laughing, which is a victory in my book. “Oh, come on, you’ve heard worse at school.”

Adrian nods again, this time wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.

When he’s recovered, I ask, “Are you hungry? I think dinner should be ready by now.” I stand and offer Adrian my hand when he nods. He takes it and I pull him up. He really is almost my height and it’s infuriating.

“Uh, thanks for helping me,” Adrian says, rubbing the back of his neck.

“No problem,” I say. “Isn’t that what a big brother is for?”

Adrian wrinkles his nose. “That’s cheesy.”

“You should feel honored. Felicity never got cheesy.”

“What did Felicity get?”

“Bullied.”

After dinner, Adrian went back upstairs, showered, and basically passed out. Percy and I watched some  _ Queer Eye _ and now Percy is showering. I showered first and now I’m waiting for him to come back so we can go to bed. On most days I would join him, but that feels cruel with Adrian in the next room. We’ll have to figure out how to work around that later. Right now, I have to make a call to Scipio.

Scipio is an old friend of mine and Percy’s. He’s a gruff-looking man from Northern Africa. He runs a restaurant downtown,  _ Eleftheria _ . When I had just left my father’s house, Felicity’s friend Sim got me a job there because she knew Scipio. I did learn at that job that being a waiter is  _ not  _ my forte. But I did find a father figure in Scipio (which took years for me to accept). Scipio says I’m one of the worst waiters he ever hired but still his favorite.

I’m calling Scipio because I need advice. This afternoon felt like breaking ground with Adrian, but what if I just got lucky? Talking him through a panic attack doesn’t mean I’m fit to semi- _ raise  _ him. And though I love Percy, he’s as inexperienced as I am in this field. Maybe even more because he was an only child. I need someone who knows what they're talking about, someone who’s experienced with taking in hapless kids.

Scipio picks up at the first ring. “Hey, Monty,” he says. His accent always comforts me. “How are you?”

“Hey, Scipio,” I say. “I’m in a bit of a tough situation.”

“What is it?” Scipio asks.

I explain to him what happened: how my parents died suddenly and now Adrian is staying with us. I tell him what happened with Adrian this afternoon and how we made fun of my father. I tell him how scared I am.

“Let me see if I get this,” Scipio says. “You’re faced with this kid. He’s a great kid. He seems a little questionable at first but you really start to like him. The kid starts to trust you. But this kid is messed up. It’s not his fault; someone hurt him, bad, and made him believe he deserved it. This kid is really struggling to get past that. But this kid needs you now. This kid needs  _ someone _ and he’s turned to you. But you’re scared because you’re not sure how you can help him. You don’t feel like you’ll be what this kid needs. You think that you won’t be able to be there for him in the ways he needs you.”

“That’s . . . exactly how I feel.”

“That’s how I felt when I met you.”

“Really?”

“Really. You were a real piece of work, Monty. I wasn’t sure I could help you.”

“Well, you did.”

“I’m glad you think so.” After a pause, Scipio says, “I remember, one night after your shift you didn’t go home. You went straight to the bar and asked me for a drink. Do you remember what I said?”

“You asked me why.”

“I did. Because I remembered you telling one of your coworkers that you didn’t drink anymore. And what did you say?”

I laugh under my breath. “I spilled my whole life story to you.”

“Do you know what I thought?”

“‘Why won’t this kid just leave my restaurant he’s scaring everyone off by crying at the bar’?”

Scipio laughs. “No,” he says pointedly. “I thought, ‘ _ This is the strongest and bravest kid I’ve ever met _ ’.”

“Well . . .”

“So I’m going to tell you something I told you a long time ago, and you should probably hear more often: Be kinder to yourself. You are smarter and stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

I throw a hand over my eyes because I  _ will  _ start crying. Not only has today been emotionally exhausting, but something about Scipio just completely disarms me. “God, Scip,” I say, trying and failing to sound exasperated.

Scipio laughs again. “Alright, alright, I’m done.”

“Thanks though,” I say. “I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear that.”

“Anytime, Montague,” he says. “Hey, where’s that husband of yours? Tell him he needs to come by soon.”

“Will do,” I say. “Maybe we can come by with Adrian sometime soon?”

“I’d like that,” Scipio says. “Try not to drive the poor kid crazy with Percy. I could barely handle a week of you two all over each other.”

“No promises.”

In the morning, Adrian is already downstairs when Percy and I get up. He’s sitting on the couch with Juno in his lap. Juno usually isn’t allowed on the couch but we don’t say anything.

“Do you still want to go get your things today?” I ask.

Adrian nods. Last night at dinner I asked if he wanted to go to our parents’ house and get anything else of his that he wants. It’ll be easiest today when we also have Percy to help and while Adrian is still out of school. He’s not  _ technically  _ out of school but I think suddenly becoming an orphan warrants a few days off.

“Do you drink coffee, Adrian?” I go to the kitchen and start pulling down mugs.

“No,” he says. His stomach grumbles.

“Are you hungry?” Percy asks.

“Yeah, but I was going to wait for you guys.”

“We usually don’t eat breakfast. Just coffee.” I start the coffee machine. “But you don’t ever have to wait for us, really. You can just rummage through the kitchen.”

Adrian’s eyes are wide. “Really?”

“Sure. We don’t have a lot in the way of snacks but we can get some.”

“I don’t really eat a lot of snacks,” Adrian says softly.

“No?”

“Father didn’t really let me.”

I turn to look at him, leaning against the counter. “What? What do you mean?”

“I wasn’t really allowed to eat except for at meals with him and Mom.”

Percy and I both stop and turn to stare at Adrian. Percy frowns. “That’s so . . .”

“Fucked up,” I finish for him. “Why the hell would he do that?”

Adrian shrugs, looking embarrassed.

My father is a piece of shit. A veritable, not even worth the spit in his grave piece of shit. But that’s a new low for him. For everything that he did to me, he never did something like  _ that _ .

“Well, that’s bullshit,” I say. “You can eat whatever you want, whenever you want, okay?” Adrian nods. “Now what do you want for breakfast?”

Going back to my father’s house is something out of a nightmare. Literally. My nightmares usually take place in this house. The house itself hasn’t even changed much in thirteen years.

Using Adrian’s key, we go inside through the side door instead of the front door used for guests. The side door leads into the kitchen, which is nearly unchanged. There’s a new fridge—which I surprise myself by noticing. They got rid of the rug in the adjoining dining room. Despite myself, I wander through the rooms to look around.

Then I remember why we had that rug.

I stand, frozen in my spot, staring at the floor. At the dark stain on the floor. The blood.  _ My blood _ .

“Monty?” Percy asks. I must have been staring for too long. He and Adrian are watching me with matching concerned expressions. They both follow my gaze to the stain and back up to me. Adrian looks shocked. Percy just looks sympathetic.

“Hey, Adrian?” Percy says without taking his eyes off me. “Why don’t you go up to your room and start getting your stuff together? We’ll meet you up there.”

Adrian nods and goes upstairs.

“Come here, love.” Percy pulls me into his arms, rubbing my back. “You’re shaking.” I hadn’t even realized. Percy presses a long kiss to my forehead, running his fingers through my hair. He’s doing everything he can to try and calm me down.

But I can’t. Because that’s  _ my blood _ staining the floor and they don’t even cover it up anymore. 

I remember leaving that stain. Before my father and I took our  _ meetings  _ in his study, we had one in the dining room. With one well-placed slap, I hit the ground. I busted my chin and bled all over the floor. My mother was in a  _ state  _ when she found out the floor had been stained. She cared way more about the stain than what had caused it. Looking back as a mature adult, I think my mother was just trying to focus on what she could control rather than what she couldn’t. But at the time, it felt like being abandoned.

“I thought that I would be okay coming back here.” I did. I really did. A lot of the time I feel like my life in this house is something far behind me, that I’m past all of it. I feel like I’m completely healed and that was just a bad part of my life that I can forget. But then something as simple as a stain reminds me that I will never get away from it. I will literally always live my life bearing the scars of abuse.

Percy gives me a squeeze. “It’s okay if you’re not, Monty. You went through a lot of trauma here. It’s natural to not feel comfortable here.”

“What if I never can be, Percy? What if I never get over it?”

“No one’s expecting you to, love. You were  _ abused _ . And you’ve come so far since then. You’ve healed. But it’s not healthy to just pretend it never happened and it’s not reasonable to expect you to do so. Healing and forgetting aren’t the same thing.” He pulls back just enough to take my face in his hands. He traces my burn scars with his thumb. I used to hate when he did that. My scars are large, noticeable, and not the nicest to look at. They looked a lot worse when they had just healed. I hated it when Percy even looked at me too hard because I thought he was staring at my scars and how ugly they were. But Percy eventually made a point to be overly affectionate towards my scars. He would press kisses to that side of my face and trace my scars like he’s doing now. He would call me gorgeous and the light of his life. He told me that my scars weren’t ugly at all, just another detail that made me, in his words,  _ captivating _ .

He kisses me, gently, then asks, “Do you want to wait outside? Or just leave? I can help Adrian. You don’t have to—”

“No, I’m staying.” It feels wrong to ditch Adrian here.

“If you’re sure.”

We join Adrian upstairs. His room is very muted. The walls are beige with nothing on them. His bed frame, desk, bookshelf, and dresser are all the same dark wood. His bed is all grays and browns. A music stand sits in the corner next to a keyboard and a guitar. It almost looks more like a guest room than the actual guest room that we put him in.

“Looks like we won’t have to move much,” I say.

Adrian shrugs. He’s pulling clothes out of his closet. “I didn’t get to decorate it.”

Percy and I exchange looks. It’s like my father didn’t learn his lesson after two of his kids ran from home and only got stricter with Adrian.

Or maybe that’s why he did.

“Well, you can do whatever you want with your room now.”

“I can?”

‘Of course. You’re gonna be stuck with us for a while. You might as well make yourself at home.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Unwritten](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24034795) by [pinstripedJackalope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinstripedJackalope/pseuds/pinstripedJackalope)




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